


Sauce for the Goose

by woodsong_1978 (Vae)



Category: Firefly
Genre: M/M, Multi, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-08-09
Updated: 2009-08-09
Packaged: 2017-12-07 07:17:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/745797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vae/pseuds/woodsong_1978
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mal + Jayne + dockside bar = Simon stitching at least one person</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sauce for the Goose

**Author's Note:**

> Joss is boss. The characters aren't mine, neither is the 'verse. Just playing here. No profit is being made. No copyright infringement intended.
> 
> Thanks to [](http://lvs2read.livejournal.com/profile)[**lvs2read**](http://lvs2read.livejournal.com/), [](http://ellenscult.livejournal.com/profile)[**ellenscult**](http://ellenscult.livejournal.com/) and [](http://kispexi2.livejournal.com/profile)[**kispexi2**](http://kispexi2.livejournal.com/) for the beta check, even if it's long enough ago that they probably don't remember it. Any remaining errors are entirely my own responsibility for disagreeing with them. Written for [](http://anxiety-junkie.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://anxiety-junkie.livejournal.com/)**anxiety_junkie** who probably doesn't remember leaving a prompt in a ficathon of "Guns, booze and sarcasm". Two out of three ain't bad.

"And I suppose it was purely coincidence that the blade happened to meet your arm?" Simon asked acidly, pulling the suture a little tighter than was medically necessary. "I mean, you couldn't possibly have been doing anything to provoke anyone into attacking you, no, not you, not quiet, genial Jayne Cobb, not..."

"Enough," Mal rapped out, straightening on the infirmary's only stool. He'd been slouched back against the wall in a posture that had originally worried Simon, but the captain had assured him that the only injury was to Jayne's arm, and there was nothing to concern his doctorly head about.

Simon considered that he'd been very restrained in not responding to that one with more than a wintry glare.

He returned his attention to Jayne's arm, closing the final suture and dropping the needle on a nearby tray. Jayne _was_ being remarkably quiet, especially for Jayne. Not a word of complaint, not a single yelp of protest, simply lying back and letting Simon stitch him up. A few brief checks had convinced him that Jayne was actually still conscious, just...silent. "Is it too much to ask what _did_ happen?"

Shrugging, Mal leaned back against the wall again, legs stretched out in front of him, effectively blocking Simon's way out of the infirmary. He could step over the legs, of course he could, but it was the principle of the thing. Mal's legs were across the doorway. "Someone happened to take an objection to Jayne's manner of expressing himself."

Simon nodded absently, taping a dressing over the stitches. Experience had taught him that there was no point in suggesting to Jayne that he rest long enough for the wound to heal, so all he could do was protect his work to the best of his ability. And the best of Serenity's medical supplies.

"Hey!" Jayne protested, words slurring slightly, and Simon frowned. There wasn't enough bloodloss to account for that sort of speech impediment unless....of course. Alcohol. Which he felt sorely in need of himself. "Ain't my fault that yu ben de hun dan didn't like how I was - "

"Jayne." Steel laced through Mal's voice, firm and without any sign of intoxication. "We ain't gonna be talking about that one."

"Please, don't hold back on my account." Simon stripped off his gloves and apron, dropping them in secure disposal, and washed his hands, turning back just in time to catch the exchange of glances between Mal and Jayne. "No. Oh, no, Mal, please tell me he didn't...."

Mal smirked. "Oh, he did. Clear as day and loud as a church bell, praising the wonders of that sweet mouth of yours to all who cared to listen, and a few as didn't."

For a few sweet seconds Simon entertained the highly unprofessional wish that he'd omitted to use local anesthetic when cleaning out Jayne's wound. The amount of alcohol Jayne had consumed would probably have worked equally well, though, and he abandoned the thought with a soft sigh and a deep flush, blended shame and frustration. Another dock he'd need to avoid, if and when his name was ever removed from the Alliance's Most Wanted list. It was hardly worth getting angry with Jayne for being Jayne. Not any more.

"Hey!" Jayne said again, louder. Loud enough that Simon winced, glancing automatically in the direction of the passenger quarters where River was sleeping the sleep of the heavily sedated. "How about all them things you was saying about his - "

"Jayne!" Mal repeated, topping Jayne in volume, and Simon seriously considered applying the same sedation to the two men in the infirmary. "We ain't talking about that one, either."

It was only Mal's legs across the doorway (and a sneaking suspicion that Mal wouldn't hesitate to trip him up) that prevented Simon from stalking out immediately and leaving the two of them not to talk about him. If only they'd managed to be as discreet in public. "No, please." His tone dripped sarcasm. "Please, talk. Let me know exactly how complimentary you both were about various parts of my anatomy. After all, I'll need to know what to highlight on the flyers advertising my services as a dockside whore."

There was another exchange of glances, and Simon folded his arms, leaning back against the counter. "Well?"

"We're gonna advertise?" Jayne asked, confusion tainting his voice, blinking at Mal. "I don't wanna share him no more, Mal."

Simon arched an eyebrow, and waited. It was hardly news that Jayne Cobb didn't like to share his toys. Not that Simon viewed himself as a toy. Or let Jayne do so. Or Mal. Not most of the time, anyway. Maybe sometimes. Very occasionally.

Mal rose to his feet and stretched, leaning against the door frame to block Simon's escape route. "You're already sharing with me, Jayne, so you might be wanting to think some more about that statement of yours. If that ain't gonna be making more work for the doc when your brain overheats, and I'm thinking he's got enough brain work in hand with his sister. Don't need you to be adding to it."

And River had been having such a good day, as well. Although Simon suspected that he'd found the cause of her spontaneous and apparently unprovoked wide-eyed giggling fits earlier . "I hope you gentlemen at least had the presence of mind to keep my name out of your conversation?"

"Weren't your name we were discussing." Grinning lopsidedly, Jayne slumped back against the exam table.

Simon didn't doubt him at all. "If neither of you are going to enlighten me, then perhaps you'd leave me to clean up in here. Captain, I believe Jayne could use an arm - _not_ mine, no matter how complimentary he may have been about it in a room full of strangers – in returning to his quarters to sleep off the doubtless questionable brew that prompted the discourse on the subject of my personal attractions."

For the first time since they'd entered the infirmary, Mal looked uncomfortable. "Ain't so sure he's gonna be taking mine."

Simon glanced back at Jayne, catching the edge of a scowl on his face. Mal didn't usually care about going against Jayne's wishes if it was for something necessary to his crew's welfare, and this one was. If Jayne stayed in the infirmary much longer, the array of sharp objects at Simon's disposal – and a fair number of the blunt ones – were going to prove far too tempting. "I need him out of my infirmary, _Captain_."

"You don't wanna be keeping him in here, keep an eye on him or anything?" Mal asked. There was the slightest trace of desperation in his voice. "Run some tests? Hey, maybe he needs some shots or something? Could have been anything on that knife, don't wanna take no chances now, not with his aiming arm. I'm needing him fit for work again real soon."

"Which is why you went out drinking in a dockside bar?" Simon's voice dripped sarcasm. "What aren't you telling me, Mal?" No point asking Jayne. He might get an answer, but frankly, through the haze of alcohol and the mild sedative he'd used to ensure Jayne's muscles were relaxed enough to knit smoothly back into alignment, it could easily be along the lines of 'the pixies did it'.

Mal glared at him, slid his gaze past to Jayne, shrugged, grimaced, and produced a suspiciously familiar knife, with the slightest sheen of dried blood along the edge of the blade. "He ain't gonna want to take my hand on account it's the one put that little perforation in him."

Simon looked at the knife, then Mal, then Jayne, then back at the knife. And then at Jayne again, and the empty sheath on his belt. "You knifed him, with his own knife, because _you_ took exception to what _he_ was saying about _me_?"

Chin lifting, jaw tightening, Mal nodded, not meeting Simon's gaze.

"And yet, you thought it perfectly acceptable for you to make similar comments." Lao tian ye, they were impossible. How he'd ever thought that the three of them could find some sort of balance...Simon took the knife, laid it precisely on the counter, and headed for the Mal-filled doorway. He'd push past if necessary, but he needed to get out. To be away from them both. To be away from _everyone_ for a while.

He hadn't reckoned on Mal's determination – or on the hiss of breath Mal gave when Simon pushed the heel of his hand against Mal's shoulder. He stilled instantly, hand resting on Mal's coat, and lifted his eyes to Mal's face, matching every bit of that determination. "Off," he demanded. "Now."

"Ain't you gonna wait until I can join in?"

Simon ignored Jayne, and withdrew his hand. "Mal."

"'Course, if you boys was wanting to put on a little private entertainment-type show, I ain't gonna have a problem with that..."

Mal grinned, the crooked half-smile that always made Simon want to smile back, despite the fact that it nearly always foretold the kind of happenings that Mal euphemistically referred to as 'complications'. "Now," he repeated firmly. "Or do I have to do it for you?"

"That's good for me!"

"Jayne!" Mal snapped out, never taking his eyes from Simon, and stripped off his coat, bunching the leather in one hand. A telltale darkness stained the shoulder of his shirt rusty brown.

"Nothing for me to worry about?" Simon asked pointedly.

Mal's eyes slid from his, and there was no reply. The quiet hum of Serenity's engines filled the room, until a soft, satisfied chuckle from Jayne broken the silence. "Didn't think I'd be letting him talk about you that way if'n I couldn't, right?"

Closing his eyes, Simon prayed for patience, the scene clearly unfolding in his mind. Mal and Jayne, drinking, was always a recipe for a fight. In some way, he supposed that he should be grateful it was a fight they'd picked with each other. In others...he was only human. "I'll send Zoe down," he said briskly, but his hands were more gentle as he moved a suddenly pliant Mal from the doorway and back onto the stool. "Try not to kill each other while I'm gone."

"You mean, you ain't gonna...?"

"Nothing to worry about," Simon repeated, with the faintest hint of a smile and absolutely no humor. Besides, it probably _wasn't_ anything to worry about. Jayne was more precise with blades than Mal was, even when he was drunk, and he had every reason to believe that Jayne wouldn't do anything that would cause serious damage. And if it was more complex than a simple cut to be cleaned, stitched and dressed, Zoe could find him easily enough. "There's something else I need to do now."

Mal was already slipping his suspenders down, working at the buttons of his shirt one-handed. "River causing trouble?"

"Less than you two," Simon told him. "No. I need to find Kaylee, and some of her latest distillation. I hear that sauce for the goose also has other applications. And since I can't leave the ship and go to a public bar..."

There was dead silence for a few seconds, while Mal worked that one out, and Jayne tried to.

"Kaylee don't like being goosed..."


End file.
